


There and Back Again Part 7

by Carisa_Ironfell



Series: There and Back Again [7]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Armor is actually good for something who knew?, Armor is hot okay???, Aunty Bilbo, BILBO FLAGGINS, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo spends some time as the flag of Erebor, But not for a date sadly, Dwarf brakes - your millage may vary, Everyone is scheming now not just Fili and Kili, Gen, Kili is distracted, M/M, Poor Bilbo got caught up in the middle of it, So are floofy cloaks, Tags Are Fun, Thorin is late!!!, We're almost there guys just a little longer, also, is back!, nope I'm not, okay i'm done, well yet anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21675151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carisa_Ironfell/pseuds/Carisa_Ironfell
Summary: Time for a party! Bilbo doesn't want it, because hobbits get social anxiety in large crowds of people. Tall people.... Still, he has to humor Thorin. Speeches ensue, and the sun is hot (who knew??).......But why does it matter what color his armor is???
Relationships: eventual Thorin Oakenshield/Bilbo Baggins
Series: There and Back Again [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559959
Comments: 2
Kudos: 85





	There and Back Again Part 7

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, we're almost to the end of the series. Or at least the main portion of it. Still my sister's wonderful work, not mine. Thank you all for understanding. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and we hope you enjoy!!! :D

“Do I really have to wear this?” Bilbo complained, trying to edge away from the excited bustle of dwarves crowding him.

“Of course you do! You’re a hero and people have certain expectations that you have to uphold now,” Bofur said, his hat clashing splendidly with his magnificent armor.

“I don’t look a thing like myself,” Bilbo grumbled. The dwarven armor weighed him down and he looked ridiculous. He just wasn’t warlike enough to look right in armor. The light mithril shirt had suited him better, since he could easily hide that under his shirt and be safe and normal at the same time.

“None of us do, Mister Bilbo,” Ori said hesitantly, holding the last few pieces of armor while Dori and Nori strapped Bilbo into it. 

He was right, to a certain extent. Bilbo was so used to seeing the Company in travel-stained, worn clothes and cobbled-together armor that finding them splendidly attired like Dwarf princes of old was faintly intimidating. The only one in his room that looked mostly like himself was Balin, wearing fantastically embroidered robes rather than armor.

“If I have to wear this all day, I’ll not be able to walk by sundown. It’s too heavy,” Bilbo continued.

“Well, if you ever need a rest, just give a signal and you’ll find willing hands to carry you,” Bofur said cheerfully. “So many people are grateful for everything you’ve done.”

“Is he ready yet?” Kili asked, rushing through the door. “Thorin’s losing his mind with impatience.”

“Just the finishing touch,” Dori said, throwing a long scarlet cape over Bilbo’s shoulders. “There, take him away.”

Bilbo tried to keep protesting, but Kili seized him by the arm and hurried him into the hall. There, Fili seized the other arm and they lifted him entirely clear of the floor.

“Really, this is too much,” Bilbo scolded them.

“Too much is how much time they wasted arguing about the silver or gold figured armor,” Fili said. “Don’t they remember it was supposed to be the copper?”

“Mister Balin made sure they got the copper eventually,” Kili replied, stumbling over his own feet as Fili dragged the entire group around a tight corner.

“I know, but it took so long! Good thing Gimli was keeping us informed about everything.”

“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” Bilbo demanded.

“Why? Was there something you wanted to say?” Kili asked distractedly, pulling the other two out of the path of six platter-bearing dwarves.

“I object to being dressed like this! Can’t I just wear my clothing?”

“Not today,” Fili said. “Today, you are a hero of Erebor. People don’t expect you to wear your clothing. They want to see you bearing the evidence of our gratitude. The finest armor, crafted to match you as a warrior and a person. Thorin had a personal say in how it turned out in the end.”

Bilbo’s face flamed, preventing him from making any further protests. If he spoke now, he was sure to hear a high squeak instead of words.

Fili and Kili set him on his feet outside of a stone door, carved with intricate figures that Bilbo was too befuddled to properly admire.

“Thorin’s through there. Don’t keep him waiting,” Kili said and both brothers slumped against the wall to catch their breath. Bilbo supposed they had a right to it. In addition to him, they were both carrying the full weight of their own armor.

He took a moment to breathe deeply and wish he was in his own, plain clothes. Then he opened the door.

After all, knocking on a stone door was rather pointless.

Thorin spun around, flaring out his long fur cloak impressively, eyebrows drawn into a scowl. That melted away he realized Bilbo was standing there, replaced by a smile.

“Bilbo! They took so long I was afraid you’d given Balin trouble,” he said, relief coating every word.

Bilbo shook his head. “I didn’t give anyone trouble, though I had a right to! Hauled from my bed, if you please, with no warning. They barely gave me time to eat before stuffing me into half a dozen suits of armor until Balin was satisfied! I look a complete idiot and for what? A hero’s parade that will last all hours of the day and night? I am not the kind of Hobbit that enjoys this sort of thing, Thorin! Come to think of it, that sort of Hobbit may not exist.”

He frowned, distracted from his rant by the consideration. Some of his Took cousins, maybe. They were certainly wild enough. He’d never been like them, though. He was much happier with a quiet gathering of a few people if there was need to celebrate something. Once or twice a year, he would have a big party, but this was the first of several, if he’d eavesdropped correctly on Dori and Nori as they worked.

He jumped a little as Thorin gently grasped his shoulders. “I know, my friend,” he said, still smiling. “I promise, you won’t be asked to do much. And when the crowds overwhelm you, there’ll be a space to escape them. Just smile and try to enjoy yourself how you can.”

Bilbo leaned his head against Thorin’s breastplate, letting the cool metal calm him down a bit.

“All right, I’ll do my best,” he said, dredging up a smile. “But I will have you know there was nothing in my contract that said I had to put up with this.”

“Is not the glory of success another part of our profit?” Thorin countered. He hadn’t moved his hands. “One small chest of Troll keepsakes is not what you are owed.”

Bilbo looked up at him and forgot what he had been about to say. Thorin stood so close. He licked his lips, trying to work some moisture into a mouth suddenly gone dry.

“Um, well, I don’t mind,” he said inanely. “W-What were you saying last night? I promised I’d listen, after all.”

Thorin nodded, a bit of apprehension clouding his face. “Yes, you did,” he said, half to himself. He took a deep breath, but a horn suddenly sounded deep in the Mountain. He half-growled a curse and seized Bilbo’s hand. “We’re going to be late!”

He dragged Bilbo unceremoniously into the hall, sped past Fili and Kili, who stumbled into place behind them, and jogged down several flights of stairs. Bilbo scrambled to keep up and found himself oddly grateful for the armor on his arms. If he hadn’t had it, the distracted dwarves would have left finger-shaped bruises up and down his arms.

Thorin skidded across the wide hall that led to the main gate and stopped. His cloak cushioned Bilbo’s collision nicely. Lucky for him, Fili and Kili stopped more smoothly and didn’t squash him into jelly.

Thorin settled himself into a degree of serenity and fussed over Bilbo for a moment. Bilbo didn’t fight him, because the horn and the dash to the gate had left his stomach several levels up the Mountain. He smiled, taking his cue from Thorin, and obeyed the light tug on his arm to move forward. Arm-in-arm with the dwarf king, he stepped through the gate into blazing sunlight and the ear-splitting cheers of Men and Dwarves. 

They walked sedately down into the valley, through the crowd, to a space that had been prepared with massive banquet tables that could hold all the people. Bilbo supposed that Balin had been preparing them before Thorin got home, or there was no way they would be here. He was seated in the center of a long table on a stage covered with flowers, with Thorin on one side and Bard on the other.

The bargeman Bilbo had met just after escaping from the Elf-king’s dungeon had vanished. This Bard was garbed as magnificently as Thorin, but Bilbo had the comfort of seeing Bard look as uncomfortable in it as he did in his armor. The crowds gathered at the other tables and the roar of their voices lowered to a rush that reminded Bilbo of the river rapids the Company had lived through.

Thorin stood to make a speech, which Bilbo didn’t absorb much of. No one had told him how hot the armor would be out in the sun. By the time Thorin finished, which wasn’t long at all, Bilbo was feeling a bit dizzy.

A shout washed over him, and music began to play. Thorin dropped into his seat.

“I must not be as young as I used to be,” he said, grinning sideways at Bilbo and Bard.

“None of us are,” Bard replied. “Bain is nearly as tall as me now. I can still remember when he only reached my knee.”

Bilbo let their conversation go over his head and passively soaked in the music and the noise. If he didn’t worry about how many people there were or how they were all looking at him, it was actually pleasant. Thorin’s casual hand on his forearm made it better.

Dwarves with platters passed food around the tables and Bilbo ate a nice meal. It wasn’t much like the food he made for himself, but there were several dishes he made a mental note to ask Balin about later. He would enjoy learning to make them.

Bard made a speech and then a minstrel got on the stage and sang a lay about the quest of Thorin’s Company. Bilbo would have liked to hide under the table, but Thorin lightly gripped his hand and gave him a look that said he had to sit through it.

At least most of the other members of the Company looked just as embarrassed. Bilbo could see them sitting on either side of Thorin and Bard, most of them with their families. It was a very long table. Only Dwalin and Balin looked unconcerned: Dwalin continuing to eat and Balin smiling placidly with his hands folded over his belly.

There was applause and the singer went his way with a bag of gold. Thorin rose discreetly and ushered Bilbo to a pavilion standing behind the stage.

“Now seems a good time for a rest,” he said and Bilbo happily collapsed on a mound of cushions.


End file.
